Boards
by Wicked.Intentions
Summary: Nazi Zombies! Richtofen/Tank. Tank sees Richtofen about boards to repair a barricade and ends up getting more than he sought.


**Disclaimer:** _Call of Duty: World at War_, all characters and settings, and anything else you would recognize as pertaining to this video game does not belong to me. The plot itself belongs to me. I do not intend to make any money off the writing of this fan fiction; it is merely for entertainment purposes.

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**Title:**_ Boards._

**Complete Story Summary:** Tank sees Richtofen about boards to repair a barricade and ends up getting more than he sought.

**Story Pairing(s):** Edward Richtofen/Tank Dempsey.

**Story Rating:** T.

**Chapter Content:** Coarse language and very suggestive male/male contact.

**Notes:** There is just not enough of any of these pairings from "Nazi Zombies."

Oh, and this isn't in the least bit romantic, but that's how I find stories of this nature.

This is plotless, really. I just wanted some Richtofen/Tank contact. And I don't consider this quite graphic enough to be M-rated. It's purely on-top-of-the-clothes stuff.

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Crazed laughter sliced through the companionable silence that had descended upon Der Riese, piercing the sensitive ears of the battle-hardened soldiers contained within it.

A loud groan escaped the American, who dropped the bullets he was fiddling with. "Damn it, can he ever keep that craziness to himself? It's hard to concentrate with that shit goin' on."

"Who knows?" Nikolai replied, sighing with agitation. "With Nazi, it is hard to tell."

"I too find it difficult to focus," Takeo added.

They fell quiet for a moment, all sitting around a table they had found lying around. For chairs, they used flat pieces of machinery that weren't being used, along with piles of massive, dusty instruction manuals written in German. No doubt they belonged to Richtofen, but while he wasn't around to complain about how they were treating them, it didn't matter to the three other men.

Tank perked up when he heard the tell-tale scraping of fingernails against the boards, the groaning of boards being forced out of their secure places, and the gurgling noise that came from a throat logged with blood. He growled lowly, rising from his seat to slink over to a nearby barricade around a corner. Sure enough, there was a zombie desperately ripping down the boards, craving the flesh of the living.

He raised his MP40 and trained it on the head, knowing that the fastest and most efficient way to kill these things was to aim for a headshot. With a pull of the trigger for a couple seconds, bullets carved their way through the decayed features of the undead creature. It fell to the ground behind the barricade with a dull thud, silenced.

He threaded a hand through his blonde hair. "Do we got any more boards?"

"Uhh, you might want to check with Nazi on that," Nikolai answered. "He never restocked piles of boards around windows after last horde."

"Great," the American grumbled. He holstered his MP40 and climbed the staircase that would take him to the bridge past Juggernog. The doctor was somewhere in the depths of the rooms on the other side of the bridge, no doubt hearing voices again, the schizo.

"Doc! Doc, where are you? I need more boards!" Tank called, stepping off the bridge. He made his way past the Double Tap machine (that they never utilized) and peered into the dim room behind it. He didn't see the man, so he descended the staircase to his right that would take him to the furnace below. Sure enough, he found the doctor crouched in front of it, staring fixatedly into the low flames that did nothing to keep them warm.

Tank stood awkwardly off to the side, watching the Nazi for any signs of movement. There were none; he was frozen in his position, eyes locked on something that Tank knew he couldn't see.

His ears picked up on some murmuring in German coming from Richtofen eventually. Slowly, the Nazi rose out of his kneeling, his bones creaking loudly in protest, hinting to the amount of time he had spent in that same spot.

"Doc?"

"Ja?" Richtofen inquired calmly, folding his arms behind his back, as if he hadn't been displaying the behavior of an ill person for the last two hours, with his high-pitched laughter and whatnot.

"Er… Can you tell me where the boards are for repairing the barricades? There aren't any around."

"I'll get to it," he dismissed with a wave of his hand, making his way past Tank.

The American's hand shot out and grabbed a hold of the Nazi's upper arm, holding him in place. "No, Doc, we need them now. One of the barricades is missin' a lot of boards."

Richtofen glanced at the hand wrapped around his arm. "I said I vould get to it."

"Well, maybe I don't like how you do things. Why don't you tell us where the boards are so we can get them ourselves from now on?"

"I don't vant you snooping around." Richtofen narrowed his eyes, not enjoying where this conversation was heading. "Just vorry about your assigned tasks, and everyzhing vill be okay."

"Secretive bastard!" burst out from Tank. "We've been here for so long together. Don't you think you can trust us a little more than that?"

"No, I don't zhink I can."

Tank growled warningly. "Tell me where you keep things."

"No."

The American spun Richtofen around so he was fully facing him. He stood over him threateningly. "Richtofen…"

"I don't trust you. Stay vhere I have put you."

"What will make you trust us, then? We're in this together, you jackass. We're not gonna do anything."

Richtofen arched an eyebrow. He leaned forward into the other man's space until they were nearly touching. He stared down Tank. "Vhat vill make me trust you? It vould take years and years of dedication and cooperation. We vill be long gone from here before zhat happens."

"How about giving me something I _can_ do?"

A humorless laugh was his reply. "An easy route to trust? Vhat an American zhing to ask for."

Tank snarled, his lips nearly brushing against Richtofen's. He realized this and backed off a bit with slight embarrassment. He wanted to be intimidating, not intimate.

Richtofen quickly closed the distance, returning to his close proximity to the soldier's face. He gave him a cruel smile. "Do I make you nervous, American?"

"No, why the hell would you think that?" Tank spat, his annoyance with the stubborn Nazi growing with every word he spoke. "What does that have to do with telling me where the boards are?"

Richtofen raised an arm and trailed his fingertips over the man's forearm, which was exposed due to his sleeves being rolled up to his elbows. His other hand slid over his thigh with slight pressure so he could feel his movements. "Poor American. So easily riled up."

Tank winced at this contact, taking a couple steps back. He was dismayed to find that the doctor followed his every step immediately. "What the hell? Get away, you crazy bastard. We're not done discussin' those boards."

Richtofen flashed that small, wicked smile again. He buried his hands in the American's green military jacket, urging him forward. "Come now, American. You're having trouble vith some closeness. How could I ever trust someone as veak as you?"

Tank's grimace grew. He turned his head away from Richtofen when the man got too close again. "This isn't how someone fuckin' tests how trustworthy another person is, you know."

Richtofen brushed the back of his hand against Tank's cheek wordlessly, snaking an arm around his waist.

"I-if it's _sex_ you want—"

The doctor barked out his laughter, burying his face in the American's neck. "_Vhat?_"

"That's what I figured with how you've got your hands all over me," Tank explained dryly, shying away from the touches.

Richtofen's lips brushed against the slightly sweaty skin in front of him, not bothering to reply. His hand grabbed a fistful of blonde hair and tugged it backwards, forcing him to bare his neck. The other hand that was on his waist slid downwards until it cupped Tank's backside.

Tank let out a noise of displeasure, struggling to jerk away but lost a couple strands of hair in the process from the tight grip Richtofen had had on his head.

"Goddamn it—the boards?"

"_Fuck_ zhe boards."

Tank's eyebrows shot into his hairline. A foot was hooked around his ankle and forced him to lose his balance. He tumbled backwards to the floor, the German man landing heavily on top of him. He found his neck being ravished by lips and teeth, the scraping against the sensitive skin making him shudder. "What—_what the fuck?_"

Richtofen twisted a leg around his, pressing them fully together. His hands skillfully undid the buttons of Tank's military jacket, wrenching it open to reveal his white sleeveless undershirt that clung to his toned chest. He rubbed their lower halves together, letting out a breathy groan.

"Christ, Doc, what the…" Tank trailed off, biting back a pleasured noise at the feeling of the other man pressed so intimately against him. He stubbornly left his arms at his sides, desiring nothing more than to leave—but finding himself unable to move away. Damn Nazi. Tank was _deprived_.

Richtofen mumbled something in German to him, his eyes falling shut, his teeth gritting as he rutted against him again. He wrapped his lips around a patch of skin on his neck, choosing this time to suck on it. His teeth dug into the bruising flesh, drawing blood, which was immediately lapped up by a blood-hungry Nazi.

Tank hissed at the sharp pain at his neck and finally forced his arms up and placed them on his molester. He followed his earlier example and slid a hand down to grip the firm backside of the other man. He pressed downwards, increasing the pressure between them. He was vaguely satisfied when Richtofen's mouth fell open in a moan. Something in German once again.

Tank's legs spread a bit more to give the doctor room to work. He was rewarded with another rut that sent pleasurable tingles from his groin, spreading outwards. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and knocked the hat from the Nazi's head with the hand that wasn't busy squeezing his cheeks. His hand buried itself in the brown, graying hair.

He willed his hips to move, to intensify the feelings gained from the contact of their groins. He soon found himself desperately bucking his hips against Richtofen's, eager to achieve a release.

His toes curled in his boots, he was gasping loudly, his eyes fell closed, pleasure exploded—

Richtofen sat up, leaving him lightheaded and unable to comprehend anything. Tank blindly reached for the German to try to finish what they had started because his whole body was tense and ready for it.

The doctor stood a bit shakily, obviously very much aroused, and returned to his place in front of the furnace.

"W-what… the hell…" Tank gasped out, furious and painfully aroused.

"Veak, poor American," Richtofen chided. "Zhat vas much too easy. You could have been killed vithout any effort. I don't trust you. Vork on it, vill you?"

Tank glared up at the ceiling, worming a reluctant hand into his trousers after a long moment of hesitation, hearing the doctor mutter something about monkeys to the fire. Next time, _Nikolai's_ coming to ask about the boards.


End file.
